Nothing is that simple, is it?
by Hayley-Saxon-xx
Summary: A year after CoE, Gwen is refusing to talk to anyone bar Rhys. But who is leaving her messages and what is this web of events surrounding her? Can the events of that week be reversed? Nothing is that simple, is it? J/I, G/R. PREVIOUS USERNAME JANTO-ADDICT
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 1/?**

**Fandom: Torchwood**

**Author: Masterpuppy_x**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance**

**Word Count: 796**

**Warning: Slash, Swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic.**

**Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE. **

**Summary:** **Nothing had seemed so inappropriate, so shocking since the bone-rattling scream of the children almost a year previously**.

**A/N: Yes, I'm back, bitches. I did say I needed a break from Torchwood because RTD and CoE was still burning on my mind and pissing me off immensely, and now, a year after Ianto's death, I have finally regained my full love for Torchwood. I don't like the thought of Ianto not being there for the next series, still, I look forward to the next series, which is definitely approaching! This is for you CaptainJack95, I miss you.**

The hammering against the door cut through the silence more than the rain against the glass of the window. Nothing had seemed so inappropriate, so shocking since the bone-rattling scream of the children almost a year previously. Gwen hadn't been out of the house or had contact with anyone bar Rhys since Jack had left her on the hill. Left her empty, bar the baby stirring in her womb and the shatters of glass in her heart.

So who was knocking on her door? Rhys was lying beside her, snoring softly and there wasn't anyone else. It wasn't a salesman or a Jehovah's Witness because the bright red digits on her clock told her it was 2 in the morning. Rhys hadn't woken and Gwen started to doubt if the noise was even real. Perhaps her grief and loneliness was finally getting to her, mixing to create a new level of insanity.

"Rhys," She shook him, hoping he would awake, "Rhys, there's someone at the door."

"Well go answer it," He mumbled, barely awake.

"But…" She was met by the sound of snoring again. Tired, she hauled herself out of bed and stepped into a pair of slip-on shoes, shrugging on her dressing gown and taking her gun from her bedside cabinet, just in case.

With one hand on her prominent bump and the other gripping her gun tightly, she proceeded down the stairs of their newly bought house, dodging the boxes at the bottom of the stairs. She picked up the icy keys and unlocked the door.

When she opened it, she was met my strong wind and thick rain against her skin. And emptiness. Just the flickering light of the streetlamps and the silence screaming at her. Something white shone at her from the blackness of her door. A note, wilted from the heavy rain and very weak, but still readable.

_Mid-day tomorrow. The Starbucks on the Plass. Be there on time! _

Below it was a signature. Blurred by the rain. Unrecognizable. Shit. She darted out of the door, not even bothering to close it behind her and waddled down the street, her footsteps echoing through the emptiness.

"Hello?" She called out when she reached the end of her road. Silence had never seemed so threatening. Scared and agitated, she made her way back to her house, hoping someone would be there. No, not someone. Jack. Telling her he was back. But it would _never _be Jack. Now, oh now, she was scared.

Her whole body trembling, she made her way back to her bedroom and curled up in bed, hot tears sliding down her pale, ivory skin.

* * *

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. _Time had never moved so slowly. She was sat on the couch, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea. The rhythmic sound of the grandfather clock mocking her and ringing in her ears. It was half 8 in the morning and Gwen had woken, with fear, slick with sweat from another nightmare. She'd made herself a cup of tea but was yet to take even a sip of it. The smell even disgusted her. Eating or drinking seemed like something incomprehensible. Her hands were shaking and she was surprised she hadn't spilt the milky liquid all over herself. She placed the cup down on the table and weaved her way through the assault course of boxes (neither her nor Rhys had bothered to unpack yet), to move into the kitchen.

Pinned to the fridge with a red T magnet were two photos. The first being a photo of Jack grinning at Ianto, who was wearing reindeer antlers, looking unimpressed but letting Gwen take the photo, nevertheless. The second was of the entire team; Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Tosh and Owen, all in a clutter but none of them (bar Gwen) actually smiling for the smart photo Gwen had asked for. Jack had his hand behind Ianto and from Ianto's expression was pinching his arse; however, Ianto was gazing at Jack in such an expression that could only be described as love. Owen was scowling putting his middle finger up at the camera while Tosh giggled and touched Owen's arm affectionately. Gwen was smiling brightly, but her eyes were darting over to her heroic Captain, despite herself.

Gwen couldn't help but smile at how much the latter of the two pictures summed up the relationships of Torchwood so beautifully. Without her even knowing, she raised a hand and caressed the photo of Jack and Ianto with her index finger. Then, suddenly, realizing what she was without, she collapsed against the fridge, sobbing.

By 12 o'clock, Gwen's sadness hadn't waned.

**Short, I know but its only an intro. Review! Please! =D **

**Jess xXxXx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 2/?**

**Fandom: Torchwood**

**Author: Masterpuppy_x**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance**

**Word Count: **

**Warning: Slash, Swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic.**

**Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE. **

**Summary:**

**A/N: Ok, so I have a vague plan for this fic and I think it's going to be great. I'm not used to writing Gwen-centric fics like the first couple of chapters will be so bear with me. I want a good deal of reviews for this fic because I've not written a fic for a while that has got a fair deal of reviews. So come on show a little love? Dedicated to Gwento-Addict, CaptainJack95, TheWeddingFairy, Janto-Gleek and all of my reviewers.**

Gwen couldn't bare thinking about who had left her that note. She couldn't even bare thinking about doing anything but curling up on the couch, staring sightlessly at the grandfather clock as it merrily chimed 11. There was nothing merry about the time. It was just more days, hours, minutes of loneliness. Of chewing her fingernails until they were raw wondering how on Earth she had ended up in this state.

Rhys came down the stairs, snapping her thoughts, tripping over the boxes and stumbling into the wall as he went. When he reached the landing, he glanced around and focused at the stack of plates beside the sink in the kitchen.

"For god's sake, Gwen!" Rhys tutted, "Didn't I tell you to at least clean up in the kitchen before I got up?"

Gwen wasn't in the mood for being shouted out. Rhys was the only person she had. Then, suddenly she burst into tears, not being able to bear being yelled at for something petty like that.

"I'm sorry," She whimpered.

"Hey, I didn't mean to shout, what's happened?" He sat beside her and pulled her so she was in his arms. She was actually shaking with grief.

"Last night, someone was banging on our door and they left this note," Gwen explained, indicating the still-wet piece of A4 paper. Rhys picked it up and read it.

"You're not going are you?" He snorted, disbelieving.

"Of course I'm bloody going," Gwen snapped back, "This had to be important. Anyone else would come in daylight and talk to me at my door. If they're leaving notes and arranging secret meetings then it's got to be important and they have to know me."

"God, it's like the 456 again, sneaking around with secret meetings and shit," Rhys sighed, Gwen scowled, "At least let me come with you?"

"No, Rhys," Gwen shook her head, "I have to do this on my own."

She stood up and began to climb the stairs, resting a hand on her bump.

The rain from the previous night had been constant. It hammered against the floor and roofs of every house. Gwen was getting drenched, the water seeping through her jacket and tickling her bare arms. But she didn't care. Because it was the emptiness of the Starbucks that dampened her spirit. She was stood outside, hoping that then she'd be able to see who was approaching to talk to her.

Being on near the Plass wasn't exactly the best meeting place for Gwen because seeing the construction work on the crater in the ground shattered her heart and churned her gut. The builders weren't building another Torchwood. They were just filling in the gaps. Because they weren't told to build Torchwood. They weren't told that there was a secret organization that fights aliens underneath there, because, honestly, how do you tell a bunch of normal workers about something like that?

Gwen suspected that parts of the hub were still intact, and honestly, when she found the nerves, she'd go and have a look. She heard heavy footsteps approaching her and her heart hammered against her chest and pounded in her ears; she was actually surprised that passers-by couldn't hear it. She turned to see a man with his head down and a hooded jumper covering his hair. The man approached her and stopped in front of her.

Gwen couldn't help but step back, startled by the man in front of her. Her heart sunk. She hoped it was Jack telling her he was stupid to leave and that he loved her. She'd prayed with all her heart that it was Jack. Prayed to a god she no longer believed in.

"Stay away, don't leave the house, they're watching us…" The man had an accent that Gwen couldn't work out, it was Welsh but disguised, "Don't be fooled, Gwen. Stay clever. Next week at 1, go to the warehouse 6 on the docks. No sooner. No later. You hear me?"

"Wait, who are you?" Gwen asked, but the man was already hurrying away, leaving Gwen in the heavy rain, her mind drowning in memories of secret meetings and sinister plots. She leant against the brickwork of the Starbucks and gazed at the sky, the rain falling into her eyes, giving her an excuse for the tears cascading down her skin.

Gwen raised a numb hand to the keyhole of her door and pushed the cold key into the lock. She pushed the door with her shoulder and stumbled in, her heart filled with jagged glass and broken dreams.

This wasn't the life she'd planned out. Her first plan was to get promoted to CID and get a huge house with Rhys, get married, have kids and grow old with Rhys. Well, that plan was fucked. It was destroyed as soon as she'd seen Jack with his team, resurrecting that man with the glove.

Her second plan was one she'd come up with within her first week of Torchwood. She'd decided that Rhys was no longer the man for her, but that Jack was, and she'd leave Rhys and marry Jack. From then on, her life would be filled with danger and excitement because Jack was so… fascinating, so complex; Gwen would never get bored. And he was always so strong and unbreakable. But she'd soon after realized that Jack wasn't the man he pretended to be. And that really he was lonely and scared of losing people and that he was so very old. Jack needed someone who could give up getting married and living a normal life for him. Ianto had done that and somehow, that timid Welshman had managed to rebuild Jack better than Gwen ever could. That plan had been scrapped soon after Lisa's death.

Her third plan was more of one scene that she continued to replay in her head. She's sat on a hospital bed, gazing down at a beautiful baby boy, her forehead slick with sweat and her hair glued to it. Rhys is by her side, smiling softly while Jack and Ianto are stood near the door, hand in hand, and each wearing the same ring on their wedding finger. Jack is pushing a pram with another baby in it, a girl this time. Jack and Ianto's girl. Tosh and Owen are sat on a set of chairs near Rhys. Owen has his hand on Tosh's stomach which shows she is obviously pregnant.

That scene had soon changed after Tosh and Owen's death but the rest of it had stayed the same and even now the scene still played in Gwen's head, as if somehow, it could still happen. That, magically, Ianto would come back to life and Jack would return to Earth, somehow both in time for Gwen's baby to arrive. Oh, if only. But nothing was that simple. God, she wished it was. Perhaps it would remove some of the stress and insanity that was sitting heavily on Gwen's shoulders. But even if they did come back and everything was resolved, it would never heal Gwen completely, because she suffered too greatly and the scars ran too deep, the pain had hit her heart too hard.

Rhys hurried out of the kitchen and enveloped Gwen in the tightest hug the pair had ever shared. Gwen buried her face in Rhys's shoulders and let out the shuddering sobs she'd been holding in all day.

"I…I just can't do it, Rhys," Gwen sobbed, "I give up. I tried, I tried so hard to stay strong for Torchwood but all I get is shit. I try to help and what's my reward? By best friend running away and the love of his life dying. I can't…"

"No one asked you to be strong for Torchwood," Rhys consoled, "It wasn't fair for Jack to dump all this responsibility on you."

She clung to Rhys tightly, thinking that if she let go, she would lose him too. Her life had never seemed so dangerous yet so empty. She didn't even feel safe in her own home.

Every time the clock chimed, she counted the hours until she could go to the warehouse and jump straight back into Torchwood.

**A/N: I don't think this is written as well as the last chapter, but I had a bit of trouble with this chapter. XD **

**Review, please! **

**Jess (Masterpuppy-x) xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 3/?**

**Fandom: Torchwood**

**Author: Masterpuppy_x**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance**

**Word Count: 899**

**Warning: Slash, Swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic.**

**Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE. **

**Summary:** **Still, Gwen was going to go. It meant regaining normality. It meant one big thing: TORCHWOOD.**

**A/N: I'm working on loads of fics at once lately and I'm really confused. So sorry if there's delays in updates but I'm trying to get my useless brain in order before I go into Year 10. **

The grandfather clock chimed 9 and Gwen opened her eyes, the room blurring into focus. The TV in the corner of the room was still on, displaying GMTV. Gwen sat up and brushed a slice of hair out of her face. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa the previous night but she was unaware of what time. She'd been watching TV, waiting for the day to pass her by. But time seemed to be moving slower than normal since yesterday when she'd met the hooded figure at Starbucks. Gwen hauled herself off the sofa, groggily, trying desperately to regain a bit of normality by making herself a cup of coffee (decaf of course) and curling up on the couch watching repeats of the soaps.

She hopelessly flicked through the channels, knowing that whatever she chose to leave on the screen, she would make no attempts to watch it because the same scene would replay in her mind, the same sentence echoing over and over again.

_Don't be fooled, Gwen. Stay clever. Next week at 1, go to the warehouse 6 on the docks. No sooner. No later. You hear me?_

What if she was late? What if she was early? Oh, god, what if Rhys stopped her from going? After all, she WAS 8 months pregnant and a spooky, dark warehouse was no place for a normal pregnant woman, never mind one who was previously working for alien-hunting-Jack-Harkness-ran-top-secret-Torchwood. No, that definitely wasn't safe. Still, Gwen was going to go. It meant regaining normality. It meant one big thing: TORCHWOOD.

Coinciding with the grandfather clocks song of 12, Rhys came stumbling down stairs in a pair of boxers and his blue dressing gown hanging open, his hair askew.

"You didn't come to bed last night," Rhys commented as he made himself a cup of coffee.

"I know," Gwen replied bluntly, staring sightlessly at the TV.

"Why?" He asked, standing in the doorway archway leading to the kitchen while the kettle boiled behind him.

"Dunno," She answered, not bothering to be of any intellectual value. Angry, Rhys moved across the room and turned the Television off, "I was watching that."

"No you weren't," Rhys snorted, she looked up at him with tear-glazed eyes, "God, it's like trying to talk to a brick wall! What's happened to you, Gwen! It's like you're not even alive anymore!"

"Sorry," She looked down at her now ice cold coffee, which she'd only taken a sip of due to the fact her brain told her Ianto's decaf coffee would be so much nicer and she felt like she was disrespecting him by drinking something so vile.

"Talk to me, Gwen!" Rhys cried, annoyed.

"What?" Gwen looked up, fighting back tears; she placed the coffee cup down and stood up, "What do you want me to tell you? Want me to tell you that my life is falling to shit? That I can't sleep at night without nightmares? That I stay awake, replaying everything that's happened? That every morning, I get up and the jagged glass in my heart goes that little bit deeper when I realize that it'll be another day without Jack and Ianto? That I talk to the fucking photos on my fridge more than I talk to you? That if it wasn't for this baby in my womb, I'd rather be dead than live this worthless life!"

Rhys fell silent and all the anger in his face disappeared as Gwen crumpled into ball on the sofa and cried, her sobs echoing through the empty house. The rest of the argument fell, along with Gwen's tears. Rhys sat beside her and snaked his arms around her. Gwen didn't flinch, nor did she hug back though. She just remained in Rhys's arms until her body was too weak to produce anymore tears.

"What happened yesterday, Gwen?" Rhys asked softly, trying not to upset Gwen anymore than he already had. She looked up at him with her desperate, bloodshot eyes. Her usual ivory skin was stained with tears and the thick red lines down her face made her look all the more ill.

"There was this man…" She told him, her voice weak and laced with pain, "He was wearing a hoody, I couldn't see his face. He told me I had to be careful. That I shouldn't be fooled and to be cleaver. Because someone is watching me. Next Monday, at 1, I have to go to the docks. Warehouse 6. No sooner or later than 1."

"No, Gwen," Rhys shook his head, "You can't go. It's too dangerous. You know it is. I didn't even want you to go to bloody starbucks so I can't let you go there."

"I'm not a child, Rhys!" Gwen hissed.

"No, but you're carrying one!" Rhys insisted.

"I'm doing this with or without your say so, ok?" Gwen sighed and stormed into the kitchen and gazed out into the back garden at the looming black clouds forming in the sky. She had said she would do it with or without Rhys's say so but doing it without would feel so scary and lost because she'd have no one on her side. No back-up. That was so UN-Torchwood. Convincing Rhys was going to be tricky.

The next week went past with barely a word between the married couple. The next time they had a full conversation was Monday morning.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update XD I was sure I'd posted this chapter. **

**Come on, review? Please =D**

**Jess x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 4/?**

**Fandom: Torchwood**

**Author: Hayley-Saxon-xx**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance**

**Word Count:**

**Warning: Slash, swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic. No additional warnings.**

**Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE.**

**Summary:**

**A/N: So sorry for the delay. I was on hold as I'm preparing for exams and stuff. Year 10 is a pain :) But it's almost the holidays so I'm coming back, baby! Thank you for all your reviews you mean so much to me. Please keep reviewing, even though I don't deserve it. **

It was Monday morning. Finally. Gwen had been waiting, almost lifelessly, for the past week, waiting for Monday to come. She hadn't slept the previous night. Not even for one minute. She'd tried to go upstairs to the bed she shared with Rhys but she'd found it so difficult. A) because she was so used to sleeping on the sofa; the grandfather clock chiming to her every hour and B) because she was so restless that she couldn't even close her eyes and the red digits of her alarm clock were giving her a headache.

In the dead of night, whilst Rhys snored away, she'd gotten up and hauled herself downstairs, curling on the sofa. She hadn't even tried to sleep for she was scared she'd wake up too late to make it to the docks. Yet when the light began to stream through the window, she realized she wasn't even tired. She was wide awake, as if she had slept.

She was making herself a cup of tea, gazing at the pictures of her and the Torchwood team when Rhys staggered down the stairs, running hands through his hair.

"Morning, darling, where did you go last night?" Rhys asked, joining her in the kitchen.

"Came downstairs, to clear my head," She replied, pushing past him with her mug of tea. Whilst she went past, Rhys yanked the mug out of her hand. Gwen turned and glared at him only to be met with Rhys' far sterner face.

"I can't do this anymore," Rhys shook his head, placing the mug on the side. "I can't sit around, watching you worry yourself to death. I feel like a widower, Gwen! I actually feel like your dead!"

"How do you think I feel, Rhys?" Gwen asked tearfully. Rhys scoffed, laughing in disbelief.

"For fuck sakes, Gwen!" Rhys bellowed, desperately trying to awaken the Gwen he used to know. "It's not all about you, you know? I have feelings too! Gwen, we've had this discussion about your feelings and I have to cope with you falling apart in front of me, Gwen. And I've tried, fucking hell, I've tried.

"You're just a hopeless wreck. Nothing I do seems to help. It either makes things worse or just gets ignored. Now, I've tried to hold you together, tried to pick up the pieces and mend you, Gwen. But you make it so bloody hard! You just shut me out and act like I don't mean anything!"

"Maybe it's because I can't live a mediocre life! I can't be a normal wife, Rhys! I can't wake up, watch Jeremy Kyle all day, eating toast, drinking tea then watch the soaps and go to bed. I can't do that all day, Rhys… I just can't."

"That's what I am then, is it? Mediocre?" Rhys asked, obviously hurt. "I knew you'd just settled for me."

"That's not what I meant…" Gwen shook her head, trying desperately to make Rhys understand. But no one understood. Not even Jack or Ianto would understand. See, they had each other. They had someone from Torchwood, they had someone who knew what it was like to be in Torchwood, to have that danger, that excitement. Rhys was a normal bloke, dragged into something unbelievable.

"Yeah, it bloody is!" Rhys yelled. "We all know you're in love with Jack! What has Jack fucking Harkness got that I don't? I know he's more exciting than me. I know he's more energetic and charismatic, but for fucks sake, Gwen, I try. I know he walks into a room and everyone falls at his feet. I know he's gorgeous and powerful and protective… but no one, not even Jack, can love you more than I do. No one can care and look after you as much as me.

"I might not have a super science fiction base, or a fancy car, or a long coat, or an American accent but I love you more than anything. From what I heard from Ianto, he's not much of a partner. He's a bit, introverted when it comes to sharing things."

"I know, darling, I know," Gwen nodded, putting both her hands on Rhys' cheeks. "I love you, babe. I don't want Jack. I want _you_. I married _you_. Rhys Alun Williams, I love you, you daft sod."

Rhys grinned and kissed Gwen softly. They lingered in each others arms for awhile, listening to the quiet, almost lulling sound of the clock ticking and each other's regular, slow breathing.

"Rhys...?" Gwen was the first to speak, looking up into Rhys' grey pools. He looked back into her eyes, smiling softly.

"Yes, darling?" His voice was low and hushed, like he didn't want to disturb the pure tranquillity and beauty of this moment.

"I'm still going to that warehouse today, you know," She gave Rhys an apologetic look and then she was up, out of Rhys' arms, off the sofa and up the stairs to get changed.

There was nothing Rhys could say or do to stop her.

**I'm sorry again, guys!**

**Review? **


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